A Missing Peace

by Beth Fred

  Morgan’s forehead creased and she whipped around to snap at him, but before she or I could say anything, Kailee Hill who was passing him said, “She’s not Muslim, loser.”

  That was more unsettling than anything. Two people knew I wasn’t Muslim. Morgan and Kailee hadn’t talked since the sixth grade, when Kailee invented Morgan’s nickname, Hooker Hose, because of the fishnet pantyhose she always wore. The only other person who knew I wasn’t Muslim hadn’t been to school since I told him. Was Caleb still talking to Kailee?

  She cut in front of us to take her place beside her minions. She didn’t even say hello as she slipped in front of us, so why was she defending me—assuming that was what she was doing.

  Kailee told Farrah, “I got your text about sharing a limo for prom, but I’m not going.”

  Farrah’s mouth gaped. Lacey gasped. Morgan and I were shocked, too. Prom would be the perfect place to make a production of herself, and that was Kailee’s thing.

  “My new boyfriend doesn’t go here.”

  “So? Go to both proms. You’re going to be prom queen. You can’t not go,” Farrah urged.

  Kailee shrugged. “He’s in college.”

  “You can make him go,” Lacey said.

  Kailee laughed. “I wish, but he’s usually busy on weekends.”

  If she had a new boyfriend, maybe Caleb wasn’t still talking to her, but then how did she know I wasn’t Muslim?

  At the privacy of our ‘losers only’ table, I asked Morgan, “Did you hear what they were saying?”

  “Part of it.”

  “Do you know about it? Does Caleb have some kind of bet on me?”

  “You know I would be the last person those people would tell, but I haven’t heard anything. I really don’t think so. He likes you. He wouldn’t have attacked Kailee on Facebook if he didn’t.”

  Chapter 28

  Caleb

  I limped into my physical therapist’s office. Walking across the street and using the same muscles I used to get to Gade’s door was too much. My whole body leaned today. A gust of wind would’ve knocked me over, and it hurt like hell.

  Scott, my therapist looked up from his chair when I walked in. “You’ve been walking around more. Good for you. I hope you’re not overdoing it, though.”

  I shrugged. I would’ve liked to say no. I only went across the street, but the screams of my aching body—every muscle in my body—told another story.

  I was unable to do most of my exercises with Scott because of the exertion of the past day. My whole body nagged every time I thought about moving. When it was apparent today’s session would be a waste, Scott shook his head.

  “Caleb, when I told you to start using your legs more, I didn’t mean to go into overkill. I don’t want you spending all day, every day on the couch, but you can’t try to pick up where you were before the accident. Start out with trying to walk to your mailbox. That’s enough. If you can do that for a couple of days, add three steps until you’re walking to the end of your street. Little things. What did you do this weekend?”

  I shrugged. “I walked across the street.”

  “And back?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s too far.”

  Silence. I was being lectured for doing something that was a normal part of life for most people. That had been a normal part of life for me until a few weeks ago. What did you say to that?

  Scott went to his supply closet and took out a cane. “Use this. You’re putting too much strain on the left side of your body, because you’re trying not to carry any weight on the right side. You can use my phone to call your ride if you need to.”

  “When am I going to be able to drive again?”

  “When you can feel your leg, and you quit taking the pain pills, which I don’t recommend.”

  I sighed. “It’s okay. I have my phone.” And I have no intention of going home.

  Mom wasn’t expecting me to be done with therapy for at least another hour. I was already on base, and there was someone I needed to talk to. For someone in my condition, it was a long walk, but a couple of weeks ago it wasn’t.

  My body ached, but I had the cane and the Oxycontin. I pulled the bottle out of my pocket, swallowed two pills, shoved the bottle back in, and prepared to grit my teeth and bear through it. I knew it would take twenty minutes for the pills to kick in, and by then I’d be at his office, but knowing relief was coming helped.

  Clasping the cane, I walked to Collins’ office.

  “May I help you?” his receptionist asked.

  “I need to see Collins.”

  “He’s busy this afternoon.”

  Bullshit. My dad had been his responsibility. When someone under your command died, you made time for their family. Even if you hadn’t ordered them dead, and in this case…

  It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know what was going through my mind, or what Collins had done, but I was ready to throw this woman across the room.

  I was still standing at the counter when Collins happened out of his office. He must not have noticed the hard expression on my face, because he smiled at me. “Hi, Caleb.” He said like it was nothing. Like he had no guilt, or he hadn’t ordered my dad dead. Like I was some casual acquaintance he passed by. His tone would change before I left. I would make sure of it.

  “I need to talk to you.” I made no attempt to hide the anger in my voice.

  “Sure. Is here okay? Or do you want to go to my office?”

  I shrugged. “You’ll probably prefer we go to your office.”

  The smile slid off Collins’ face, but he didn’t look taken aback or angry, only confused.

  Once we were inside his office, Collins shut the door. “What’s this about, Caleb?”

  “You killed my dad.”

  He laughed. “They must have given you something really strong for your leg. You’re making a fool out of yourself, and I quite frankly don’t have time for this. You should go.”

  “Is that what you tell the kids of all the guys that die under your command?”

  Collins rocked back in his chair, pressing his back against it. “I’m sorry your father died. It’s a war zone. It’s a calculated risk. He knew that. He did it for you.”

  “I heard he did it for a girl.”

  Collins brows went up, and the age lines in his forehead furrowed. Again, his expression was confused. I wasn’t intimidating him at all. “Are you accusing your father of having an affair?” Collins asked.

  Oh my God. I wanted to bash his head in. “No! I said a girl, not a woman. A kid. I heard he died for a kid.”

  Collins’ mouth dropped open, and his eyes grew wide. “Where did you hear that?” His voice was hushed but menacing. “You know you can’t believe every rumor that floats around the base.”

  “The guy who fired the kill shot. I think he’s feeling guilty.” Yeah right. If he felt guilty, he would have told the truth to begin with.

  “Well, that would be pretty hard, since it was one of those damned ragheads and we shot the bastard before it was done.”

  “One of your men say they shot him for acting as a human shield to a teenage girl.”

  Collins leaned over his desk. “Kid, if you’re looking for friendly fire money, that didn’t happen on my watch. Your mom works for the base. You might not want to go digging too far. I heard physical therapy, even on base, adds up these days.”

  “Are you threatening my mom? Because I think people will have more sympathy for the widow of a fallen soldier than some half-ass officer.”

  “Oh, no, no, Caleb. If this gets out, there will be no sympathy. You’ll just be the son of a dead guy deranged by grief. No one will ever believe it.”

  Interesting. He said, “no one will believe” not “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, they’ll believe it. I have a drunk confession in my voicemail.”

  Collins’ fist collided into his desk, and he towered over it.

  “From who?”

  “The
shooter.”

  “Miller, I’m warnin’ you. Stay away from this. No good is gonna come from it. You’re just gonna get some poor SOB with PTSD thrown in the brigs. A terrorist shot your dad. If you want to blame someone, blame the ragheads.”

  I shrugged and stood. “Well, I guess the only thing to do is let the press have it and see who they believe. The shooter or his commander.” I struggled to my feet and put my hand on the doorknob. “I never deleted the message.” The whole thing was a load of crap, but Collins didn’t know that, and I had to make him think I had leverage. He’d threatened my mom. I waived the phone in front of his face. He lunged for it, but I had already cracked the door open, so I let the phone fall. It slid across the carpet. I dropped to the ground, moaning. The pain was real. The fallen phone just a ploy.

  I took a deep breath, forcing myself up. I’d been on my legs too long again today. The Oxycontin wasn’t helping. When I let myself out of the door with Collins on my tail, the receptionist handed me the phone.

  “You poor thang. You dropped this when you fell.” I knew that would happen.

  “Thank you.” I nodded to the receptionist. I looked over my shoulder to Collins and smiled, waiving the phone at him. “Have a good night, Captain. Don’t tell my mom we talked. She’d have a fit.”

  He plastered a fake smirk on his face, but I could tell by his eyes he wanted to kill me. Too bad he couldn’t.

  I texted my mom that I went with Scott for a walk as part of therapy today, so she picked me up closer to Collins’ office than the rehab center. As I waited for her, I wondered why I went there. What was I hoping to gain from this? I didn’t really care about friendly fire money. True, Mom could use it, and Mirriam wanted me to go to college, but that didn’t matter to me. Was I looking for an apology? That would be stupid. It wouldn’t bring my dad back. Then I realized I knew what I wanted. I wanted Collins to admit it—to tell the truth and face the consequences. I wanted Collins court-martialed. Justice.

  Knowing what I needed was half the game. It was like football. I had the ball, and all I had to do was keep running.

  Chapter 29

  Mirriam

  As soon as both Ommy and Abrahem were gone, I ran across the street. These days, I only knocked at Caleb’s if his mom was home, and she wasn’t.

  Caleb lay on the couch with his legs propped up on pillows, dark shadows under his eyes, and a pained expression on his face. I sat beside him. “Physical therapy didn’t go so well?”

  “It was canceled.”

  “You did too much yesterday. I told you. Caleb, you look worse today.”

  “I walked to Collins’ office.”

  “Well, that’s great. Keep going at this rate, and you’ll come out of this permanently unable to walk farther than twenty steps, unless Collins has you killed. If Collins has you killed, you won’t have to worry about it.”

  “Mirriam, calm down. This isn’t Iraq. There are laws here.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Your laws didn’t help our fathers.”

  Caleb sighed. “I don’t think he can have me offed here.”

  “Keep telling yourself that. If you keep going like this, aren’t they going to find out about me? You promised.”

  “I will make sure no one who knows about this finds out you’re here, but you can’t expect me to let it go, either. If that’s what you wanted, you should have never told me.”

  I shrugged. “I told you because I wanted to be honest with you. I feel responsible for it and because you needed the truth. That and I think they owe you a whole lot. I don’t want to watch you sign your life away.” I paused for a minute as I searched for the words. “Caleb, I think they know they owe you. It’s the only reason I can see that they would find a loophole to enlist you. To keep you quiet. Do you know how much trouble they would be in if something happened to you when they shouldn’t have enlisted you in the first place?”

  It took him a second to respond. “I thought about that.”

  A silence stretched out between us, and Caleb broke it by asking, “How was school?”

  “Fine.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “M—”

  “Do you still talk to Kailee?”

  “I tried very hard not to talk to Kailee before I ever met you. What did she say?”

  “Nothing. She knows I’m not Muslim.”

  “I blew up on her when I saw what she did to your garage. I may have mentioned how stupid that was since you’re not Muslim. I don’t remember.”

  That was simple enough.

  “There’s more you’re not telling me,” he said.

  “Hmm?”

  “What else?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re upset about something else.”

  “I heard Farrah and Lacey talking about some girl you’re taking to prom. To win a bet.”

  He laughed. “That’s stupid. You know you can’t believe those girls.” Something about his tone made me think there was more to this than he let on. His face was paler, and the grimace he wore paraded the pain, so I decided he was probably just having a bad day. That was all.

  Chapter 30

  Caleb

  My phone rang, and I grabbed it, thankful for the interruption of this conversation. “I’m going to take this. It’s Gade. He’s called ten times today. I don’t have much to say to him, but I don’t want anymore calls.”

  She nodded as I hit the speaker symbol on my phone and threw it on the couch. I figured Mirriam should know what was going on. It involved her, too. Knowing this couldn’t be easy for her, I took her hand. I wished I could sit up enough to slip an arm around her. But my legs—and most of my body—felt like meat being pulled through a grinder.

  “What the hell did you say to Collins?”

  “That he killed my dad, and he needs to have the guts to admit it.”

  “I told you not to do that.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t really give a damn.”

  “Caleb, he’s going to pin this whole thing on me. They’re putting me in the brigs if I don’t disappear first.”

  “Come clean.”

  “About what? It sounds like I told you everything. I was followin’ orders. You can’t let me go down for this. Miller, you’re a military kid. You have to know what happens when you don’t follow orders in a war zone. Especially when you’re in the command of a nutcase like Collins.”

  “You mean you come back in a body bag like my dad? I want you to go down for what you did. I want Collins to go down for what he did, too.”

  “We don’t even charge POWs for followin’ orders.” My fist clenched tighter around Mirriam’s hand. If Gade hadn’t missed, she wouldn’t be here.

  “You aimed to kill a girl. You missed and hit my dad. I don’t feel sorry for you.”

  “If I hadn’t followed orders, I would have come home in a box.”

  I wondered for a second if this was true. That would be a drastic consequence for not following orders, war zone or otherwise. If Collins was crazy enough to kill a doctor for stopping a man’s bleeding, a fifteen-year-old for mourning her dad, a fellow soldier for protecting a kid, it might be true. It just might. But it didn’t change what Gade had done. It wouldn’t bring my dad back. I couldn’t take anymore of this. I picked up the phone to hit “end.” That’s what I wanted. I wanted to end this.

  As I pressed the red button on my phone, the front door swung open wide enough to cause a gust of wind. Mom’s heels clinked against the hard wood floor. “Caleb—” She saw Mirriam and stopped. “Mirriam, could you go home? I need to talk to my son.”

  First, Mirriam looked confused. I was confused, too. This woman who looked like my mother had gone against all notions of Southern hospitality and Texan friendliness. Then fear flashed across M’s eyes, because she knew what I knew.

  Something was wrong.

  I groaned as I forced myself into an upright position. My muscles threatened
to rip apart. I could be under that car all over again.

  I slipped an arm around Mirriam as tightly as possible and kissed the side of her head. “I’ll call you soon.” She looked from me to my mom, and that tinge of almost color filled her face like it always did when she was embarrassed. She popped off the couch, smiled at my mom, and was out the door.

  “What happened today?” Mom’s voice was sharper than I’d heard it since middle school when I got expelled for two days.

  My phone buzzed against the table. One new text, but when I picked it up, Mom yelled, “Pay attention to me, Caleb Michael Miller. What happened today?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You didn’t go to PT.”

  “The doctor canceled.”

  “Right.”

  “Call and ask.”

  “You talked to Collins.”

  I leaned back against the couch. “I may have said ‘hi’.”

  “And accused him of killing your father?”

  “He did.”

  “It was an accident. Enemy fire. You know that. Did that girl help you come up with this? Is that why you’re burning flags all of the sudden?”

  My jaw clenched. I was never disrespectful to my mother, but I was tired of people blaming Mirriam for things. “That girl pulled me out of the way of a moving car, in case you’ve forgotten. No, she didn’t help me come up with this. A guy did. Someone who deployed with dad. Collins was the captain. It was his job to bring everyone home.”

  She sighed and put her purse down. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you think Collins killed your father?”

  “A soldier who was there told me Collins ordered it.”

  “Collins randomly ordered someone to shoot your father, who he worked with for years?”

  I shook my head. “Dad was protecting an Iraqi kid. Collins thought the kid was a terrorist and wanted them shot. The shooter missed…”

  “Oh. My. God.” She slinked into the armchair beside the couch. She took a few deep breaths. “That sounds like something my Michael would do. Caleb, if this is true, and I’m not sure it is, you can’t go around confronting people.”